Strange Allies
by The Morrigan's Wife
Summary: Thorin and the company have been captured by Orcs. Everything is doomed! But is it? Turns out, these particular orcs are looking for an alliance. What has changed and will being faced with the truth prove too difficult for the company? One thing's for certain, Middle Earth will never be the same again. And who's the elf?
1. Ambushed

**I'm actually one of those people who was literally raised on The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings. I'm named after one of the characters for heavens sake! Anywho... I saw the films and was sent reeling at the fact that we were given this amazingly designed Orc that looked nothing like any other Orc in the entire movie verse and given no explanation. I loved this character so wanted to give him a story where he gets a bit more of a central role beyond killing off Dwarrow royalty.**

 **This does have a background pairing of Thilbo, you have been warned. Don't like, don't read.**

Thorin couldn't believe their luck. They'd settled down that night in the ruins of a farm house. Gandalf had disappeared of to sulk Mahal knows where and everything had been quiet. They'd settled down to sleep early only to awaken to find themselves captured by Orcs. Thorin had no idea what was happening and he didn't like that one bit. He could hear them talking in their cursed Black Speak on all sides, voices low and excited. He got the feeling he really didn't want to know what was making them so happy. Suddenly the Orcs and their mounts stilled, all eyes focused on a point to the north. First came a Warg and his rider, the orc held Galndalf's staff and the wizard was soon tossed down next to the rest of the company. Then the muzzle of a white warg appeared in the flickering light. The beast was huge and strangely beautiful for such a creature. It was the riders that drew all eyes though. A pale orc, easily eight feet tall sat up tall and proud. Bare chest covered in scars, white skin gleaming in the firelight. A metal claw glinted where his left arm should be and his ice blue eyes bore into Thorin's with cool indifference. A much smaller figure clung to his frame, not much taller than a dwarf and tiny compared to her companion. Her skin was tanned a light golden brown and her hair seemed like fire as it shifted between gold, blood red and a deep copper. Her figure was well formed and her arms were lightly muscled as they clung to Azog. She, too, stared at the company, her eyes a dark golden brown that reminded Thorin of a stone his mother had loved called tigers eye. And then the warg halted and the small human woman was slipping from Azog's arms and down to the floor instead. It was easier to view her now. She was dressed simply in men's breeches and shirt with soft leather armour covering her torso and arms. She couldn't be long past her teen years although he suspected that her short stature and small chest could prove misleading. Surprisingly, it was her that spoke, not Azog the Defiler,

"Dwarves, Wizard, Hobbit. I have been asked to speak to you on behalf of these creatures. I am Britomartis, a half breed between the races of men and elves. My appearance that of men, my lifespan that of the elves. I have seen many things and understand more than most what you feel, but this also means that I understand their side just as easily."

Thorin felt a great uneasiness at her words. This little being seemed to be saying that she was older than any of them, and also that she meant to drive home some painful truths. He didn't want to listen, whatever it was, he wouldn't like it. Too late, as she was already speaking again, eyes shining and intense,

"Let me take you back to when Molgoth created the orcs. Azog was one of the first, tortured by the Dark being and twisted beyond all recognition. He lost himself for many a year after that, able to do little more than follow orders. Finally, he returned to himself and was able to gather many of his kin and flee from his cruel master. He became something akin to a ruler of this group. The strongest of the orcs. Those who had managed to retain a flicker of themselves despite the horrors that they'd faced and the corrupting magic of Molgoth and Sauron. They wandered, always having to work to combat the worst of their bloodlust and cruelty. The only times they allowed it free being on the battlefield. They couldn't escape what they had become, but they could dull its fury. Then they found Moria, abandoned by its creators and fallen into darkness. A Balrog had been awoken in its depths causing all to flee. But Azog knew that his people needed a home. Somewhere to finally relax and call their own. So they chose Khazad Doom and stayed there for many a long year, growing to love the stone halls of the old dwarven kingdom. Then disaster struck, the dwarves came back. Having lost Erebor they came to reclaim a long forgotten kingdom. In that moment you became to the orcs what Smaug was to you. Here was an army on their doorstep demanding the orcs give up their home. Azog was furious. Tell me, Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, if you found yourself in the midst of battle with Smaug helpless at your feet, would you hesitate for a second before killing him?"

Thorin could not answer and really, no answer was needed. Her words had hit them all hard and the older dwarves were now forced to look back on their own actions in a far harsher light. This woman spoke the truth, however much he wished to deny it. They hadn't bothered to even think on Khazad Doom until they found a need for it. The cruel honesty made them look at the orcs as more than a foul race worthy of nothing more than extermination, how could they think that when the same things had been spat in their faces by so many of the race of men?

"I see you understand now." Her voice was soft, face gentle in the fire's glow.

Azog finally moved, seeming to sigh in relief as he sank to the floor, legs crossed as he reached out an arm for the strange girl. She seemed to understand the gesture and moved quickly over to his side and allowed herself to be dragged down into his lap. Azog's metal arm settled across her thighs while his real arm wrapped itself around her small waist. It was a faintly comical sight, she was a good three feet shorter than him and his size easily made her look tiny and fragile. Yet her eyes held no fear, if anything his presence seemed to only allow her to relax even further. Unsurprisingly, it was Gandalf who broke the silence,

"I admit that even the white council has forgotten that orcs are still beings of intelligence and freewill. It is a grievous thing that the actions of some may be swallowed up by those of their kin. And what of you? What is your part in this tale?"

Britomartis snorted and leaned back even further against the pale orc's chest,

"My father was an elf who wandered further than most anyone. My land is one no doubt unfamiliar to you all. My mother was a simple girl who worked in the town's halls of healing. Theirs was an affair of sorts and I was conceived, but my mother meant little to the passing elf and soon he set out to return to the lands he called home. I am forever grateful that I inherited my mothers' features. The elf never knew about me and most likely never will. It has been a several hundred years since then and I care not who he is. As soon as my mother passed on I set out for these lands as I knew there was someone I had to find. I had stopped for a time in a village when Azog's son, Bolg attacked. There is no love lost between those two and Bolg merely follows him due to there being no one stronger. Soon, Azog arrived to rein in his wayward heir and I was running for him. All I knew was that this person felt _right_ where no one else did. I had heard tell of 'Ones' but I hadn't realised that it held true for me. Luckily, a part of Azog was still whole enough to recognise the pull and I was quickly swept up and carried away with the orc pack. Now, I act as Azog's advisor, queen and conscience. I have enough empathy to make up for a whole kingdom of orcs and I use it every day. After all, they are still orcs. They are bloodthirsty, cruel and more than a little violent, but at least they try. No other orcs can even say that much."

 _That_ almost sent Thorin reeling. This fragile woman was Azog the Defiler's wife. He actually felt a bit faint at the thought. Kili, it seemed, felt the same as he gently keeled over sideways. Gandalf's eyes were twinkling now and his lips twitched,

"Why come to us now, though? What has changed?"

The beautiful being's face darkened and Azog let out a harsh growl before turning to lay his head on her shoulder, teeth barely a hairs breath from her neck. She took no notice of this, leading Thorin to believe that it was normal,

"The darkness is rising once more. Bolg has split and now leads the orcs not under my husbands' control. Azog can feel Sauron's strength returning and we will do anything to assure his defeat. We must protect our people from this threat. They will be seen as betrayers and deserters and will be killed as painfully as possible upon his return. That dragon must go and soon, before Sauron can sway him. We wish to offer aid during your quest. All we ask in return is to be allowed to keep our home. We do not mind if dwarves share Moria with us. We have already contacted those in Rivendell for aid in dealing with the Balrog. And, if we happen upon something that needs to be dealt with to prevent Sauron's return, we would expect your assistance. Can you agree to this?"

Thorin's mind was racing. This woman spoke of the return of an evil long thought vanquished, but if Azog really was one of the first orcs created then he was one of the few who could make this claim confidently. He knew that they had to accept. He may seem too proud and impulsive, but he knew when to bend and this was such a time. They would have even further aid and if anything could be done to halt the darkness, how could he refuse? Finally, he rumbled out,

"Yes, I can agree to this. I will not be able to trust your husband-too much has happened between us for that-but I will try to work with him none the less. I know he understands the common tongue so that is enough said."

He was quite pleased when his little speech left Gandalf gaping, the company nodding seriously and Britomartis beaming. She really wasn't bad for being the other half of one of his most hated opponents. Then she piped up again,

"That's good news indeed. Now, Rivendell isn't far away and some of Bolg's orcs draw ever closer. We already dealt with the three trolls camped not too far away and raided their horde. We found two swords and a dagger fit for a Hobbit to wield. The Misty Mountains will prove easy as we can pass through Goblin town. The new king is rather scared of me."

Azog actually laughed at that and barked out a retort in black speak that sent Gandalf choking with laughter. Fili, ever curious, had to ask,

"What did he say, Gandalf?" Coughing, Gandalf bit out, "He said, 'only because you beheaded the previous king' or there abouts. She then muttered something about 'him having no manners and not keeping his hands to himself.' I think I rather like this particular woman, don't you?"

There were quite a few strangled gurgles and barely stifled sniggers. Dwalin didn't even bother and roared with laughter at this news, head thrown back and eyes crinkled with mirth.  
"Aye." He chortled. "I think I could grow to like the lass."

At this pronouncement, 'the lass' sent a knowing smirk at the weapons master before clapping her hands lightly while chirping,

"Time for bed I think! Azog and I will take first watch so you kiddies just relax. If you must have a guard, at least make it Dwalin. He seems interesting."

Groaning, the rest of the company agreed, while the few who knew Dwalin particularly well shuddered in fear at the realisation that the warrior had found a kindred spirit. 'We're all doomed.' Was Thorin and Balin's last thought as they succumbed to sleep.

Dwalin was having the time of his life. The elven lass was really something, he didn't think he'd laughed so much since before they'd lost Erebor. Even just thinking about her encounters with Goblins set him off again. And now he was discovering she did the same with anyone she didn't like. She'd _slapped_ King Thrandruil last time they'd crossed paths and broken his nose the time before that. It was only thanks to Elrond and Galadriel's continued interference that they still agreed to meet to discuss the battle against the growing darkness. For some reason, Thrandruil objected to being beaten by a female half-breed. Dwalin silently reminded himself to share these tales with Thorin. He would love it!

Speaking of Thorin… "Say, lass, you wouldn't happen to have any ideas for how to get a stubborn royal to realise he's falling for our company's burglar?"

Tis as she'd insisted he call her laughed outright at that. "So it's just your king and Bilbo who's oblivious then? Good. I noticed it soon after joining the company." She then broke off to break up a glaring match between her husband and a sleeping Thorin Oakenshield, even going so far as to slap the pale orc upside the head. This certainly worked to distract him as he turned his glare on the small woman at his side with a snarl. She just glared right back unflinchingly until he barked out a guttural laugh while leaning down to nuzzle and bite lightly at her neck. Dwalin watched the exchange with no small amount of concern. He didn't know what to expect from the evil looking creature. Catching the look on his face, Tis rushed to reassure him, "It's alright." She explained softly, "He may have forgotten how to show affection but he's learning every day. I'll admit that he's fairly primal in some ways, the neck biting being a key element of that. But he's incredibly gentle and protective whenever he's around me. My safety will always be his top priority. I didn't tell the others this, but I'm actually the second incarnation of his One. In my first life, I was an elf just like him. My torture and ultimate death is what finally broke him and allowed them to twist him into what he is today.

Dwalin now stared at Azog in horrified comprehension. There was no way this little lady was ever being let out of the huge creature's sight now that they had been reunited. Her voice pulled him from his musings,

"He's all that stops the nightmares of that time invading my dreams. I remember it still. I barely slept for years before I found him. Now nothing can hurt us again." Dwalin went to reach out and comfort her but was stopped by a fierce glare from Azog before the pale orc lifted her up as if she weighed nothing at all before setting her down in his lap. Tis laughed and rolled her eyes but Dwalin could see that Azog had known exactly what to do to help her.

"Well, all I can say is that he's lucky to have you lass. You're a real firecracker to rival Dis, Thorin's sister. You're probably the only one capable of forcing that stubborn lump into Rivendell willingly." The gruff warrior chuckled ruefully.

Tis' laugh rang out once more, bringing a twisted smile to the orc's face and what Dwalin could have sworn was a nod of approval aimed at him. Truly, this was a night of wonders.


	2. Rivendell

**Here's a short chapter more as a filler and a closer look at the dynamic between Azog and Tis. Sorry I haven't updated in a while, things in my life took a bit of a turn and it took a while to find my feet again.**

 **Anyway, hope you enjoy!**

The next day saw them arriving in Rivendell. Thorin had spent most of the journey grumbling and had only brightened when Dwalin shared Tis' unconventional way of dealing with King Thranduil. Thorin and the rest of their company, Dwarves and Orcs alike had roared with laughter at the tale. Tis had pouted for a minute, but some words whispered to her in black speak by Azog soon brought the grin back to her face. In fact, her new grin held a mildly sinister edge and the dwarves noticed many of the orcs shifting nervously while Azog chuckled darkly, his arm wrapping itself tighter around his small mate.

Lord Elrond himself met them, instantly launching into an elvish greeting. All of the company was surprised when Azog answered in perfect elvish, the words somehow sounding just as natural as black speak falling from his lips. Once the political greetings were out of the way, Lord Elrond moved on to the dwarves and Hobbit, this time choosing to speak in the common tongue, "Welcome, Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, true king under the mountain. Tis has already told me of your quest and the importance attached to its success. Even King Thrandruil shouldn't cause you many problems and even if he does, I'm sure that that little firebrand will knock some sense into him."

Thorin, mellowed considerably by this warm greeting, bowed his head in respect before responding, "Your welcome and hospitality is received gratefully and any help you can offer will be met with relief and my deepest thanks. I can already tell that this particular firebrand will burn all who stand in her way, I am just glad to not be one of them."

Chuckles were heard from their party and the elves gathered around them, obviously, they were all well aware of this lady's personality and habits. Suddenly, two-very manly (not)-squeals echoed through Rivendell accompanied by yells of, "Auntie Tis!"

Running into the full courtyard came two fully grown Elven warriors, dark hair streaming behind them as they dived for one of the smaller members of the group. Azog clearly knew what was happening as he hastily got out of the way of the hurricane of energy rapidly approaching him and his wife.

"Traitor." Was thrown over Tis' shoulder before she was trapped in a double embrace from the two menaces. Elrond's put upon sigh drew Thorin's attention back to the Lord of Rivendell.

"Who are those two?" Thorin questioned slowly, he could already tell that this pair were exactly like his nephews and he was inwardly panicking as he fought to think up ways to keep the two groups from ever becoming friends.

"They are my sons, Elladan and Elrohir. Rivendell has never seen pranksters like them in all its long history."

"I'm sorry to inform you, but my nephews are just the same from what I have witnessed. We will have to keep them separate."

The haunted look on Elrond's face was all the agreement Thorin needed. Glancing around, Thorin saw that most of the company would also aid in their efforts. All that was destroyed when Kili and Fili bounded straight over, examined the other duo before decisively declaring, "Prankster." Then all four of them raced off, leaving everyone else fearing for their lives and a very dishevelled Tis being fussed over by her husband.

Later that evening, both Tis and her husband were safely ensconced in their rooms. They sat, Tis in Azog's lap, in front of the fire place, watching the flames dance before their eyes.

" **Firebrand is an apt name for you, little star. It pleases me that tall warrior means to protect you. I will need the aid on this quest."** Rumbled Azog quietly, nuzzling his mate's neck.

 **"** **I like him. He is simple and does not judge easily. Loyal, too. He will make a good friend to both of us in the years to come."** Tis replied just as softly, hands stroking Azog's heavily muscled arm and metal claw where they rested in her lap.

" **The dark is stirring, we have little time before the nine start to be called."** Azog warned, anger and fear leaking into his rough voice now. Twisting around so that she was facing him, Tis snuggled close to her mate, arms reaching up to encircle his neck.

 **"** **I know, my love, I know. I will be fine though, we have allies to back us and I will never stray from your side, I promise. You are my everything, and I don't intend to ever lose you again."** Nothing more was said that night, the soulmates instead choosing to curl up together, as close as was possible with Azog's huge frame easily encompassing Tis. It was this easy comfort that both provided that characterised their marriage. Both was fiercely protective of the other while there was an underlying clinginess on both sides born from Tis' previous death and Azog's years of loneliness and grief. Neither could bear to leave the other's side for long and many who witnessed their relationship called it 'unhealthy' and 'too reliant'. It was what the pair needed though. Maybe, once Sauron and his followers had been defeated, their paranoia and fear would lessen, but not before.

As usual, their sleep was uneasy, filled with nightmares and memories of times long past. Azog woke in a panic once, convinced that Tis had been taken from his side once again. Tis had long learned what to do when this particular night terror visited and hastily scrambled over to lay on his chest, her breaths fanning over his alabaster collar bones and neck. Soon, his arm shifted to wrap around her and she felt his hand start to stroke up and down her back. Both now reassured, they drifted back to sleep.

The morning sunlight roused the sleeping pair as it filtered through the gossamer light curtains drawn before the balcony and lighting upon their faces. Tis stirred first, nose scrunching up as she moved her head so she could bury it deeper against her husband's chest in an attempt to escape the day. This woke up Azog who let out a throaty chuckle when he saw what she was trying to achieve. Carefully, he rearranged them both so that he was sat leaning against the headboard, Tis positioned between his legs using his chest as her back support. This was another one of the rituals they'd established over the years. Every morning, they would sit like this for a while, simply enjoying the quiet and their partner's company. Then, they would move so that Azog sat on the edge of the bed, Tis on the floor between his legs again with her back to him so that he could start brushing her long hair before braiding it back from her forehead so that it hung between her shoulders and down her back like a rope of fire. Personally, he loved it loose so that he could play with it, but it just wasn't practical when they were on the road.

That done, they would dress themselves followed by Azog lightly biting her neck as a warning to all other Orcs to stay away. It was a layer of protection that was needed, especially in these dark times. No Orc could touch someone claimed by another like this. The penalty was often the offending Orc's life. The bite also helped to calm Azog's darker, more possessive side that remained, even after thousands of years. Tis accepted it because she knew that it helped her husband relax a marginally, mainly though it was because she was scared. Scared that what had been done to her all those years ago-in another life even-would happen again. She needed the reassurance the mark gave her that she was protected and loved, that someone would be there by her side through it all. It was another part of their relationship that others could never understand, yes they were broken, but when they were together, their jagged edges smoothed out slightly, the pieces slotting together and making a beautifully broken whole.

 **"** **Ready, wife?"** Azog growled lowly, eyes bright.

 **"** **Always, husband."** Tis countered, laughing slightly. **"Let's go change the world."**


End file.
